Shut up, John
by RemembertoForgetme
Summary: Sherlock and John have been quirreling frequently. Warning: Drinking Drunk!Sherlock, Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first actual fanfic, I apologise for any crappiness that might occur.  
****R/R So I know if you'd like to see more; I'll take Ideas and constructive criticism.**

**Shut Up, John.**

By Lily Brown / Remembertoforgetme

Sherlock sat silently in 221B Baker Street, pondering over the case him and John had just solved. John had missed the point completely—just like he'd missed so many other things. _'John is so clueless sometimes. What was it said?' _Sherlock thought, scrambling to find the word. "Empathy," He said aloud, his eye at the microscope he kept on his desk. Across the room, he heard John's typing stop. "Hm?" John said, and Sherlock looked over at him, his light eyes resting on John's. _'I don't need empathy. I can't understand what it's like to be dull, besides. I've never been dull,' _He thought, looking back to his experiment. A few moments later, he could still feel John's eyes on him. "I know you're baffled, John, nothing new there," He paused, letting his harsh words sink in, "But could you please stop staring, one might think you're daydreaming about me."  
John glared at Sherlock. Smug, genius Sherlock. He knew by now not to argue with the detective, but he was already having a bad day, so why not get it off his chest? "Not everyone can be a genius Sherlock. We'd all be irritating pricks." He remarked calmly, going back to his blog. He tried not to let Sherlock's piercing glare bother him. _'This is what my life has been reduced to—me and the cold detective having a row at each other twice a week, and solving cases on the side,' _John thought, looking up at Sherlock. "I hate you sometimes, John."  
John was appalled. "The feeling's mutual," he remarked. _Is it? _John thought, _or was he just saying that to piss Sherlock off? _  
Sherlock chuckled from across the room, and John could see the exacerbating smirk on his face. "No, it's not." He quipped. John glared at him. "This is why no one puts up with you. You read human beings like books, and it's just not fucking okay, Sherlock."  
John's honesty felt like a knife on Sherlock's skin. His smirk disappeared, replaced with a look of contempt. The detective stood abruptly and left the flat, grabbing his coat and scarf on his way.  
John wanted to say something, but no words came out. He set his laptop down and pulled out his phone.

_I'm sorry, Sherlock. Please come home so we can sort this out.-JW_

Sherlock sat angrily in Lestrade's office, fuming at John. "I told him I hate him," He said to Lestrade, who was nodding slowly, taking it all in. "Maybe you should apologize to him, set it all straight," Greg said, "John's a reasonable man. I'm sure he'll understand."  
Sherlock shook his head furiously. 'I don't do apologies.' He muttered. Lestrade smirked, 'Maybe you should. If you want to have a relationship with John, you're going to have to stop making him take the fall for everything.'  
Sherlock opened his mouth to argue when Donovan entered the room. 'Sleeping with Anderson again, Sally?' Sherlock asked, but instead of waiting for an answer, he strode out of the room. Lestrade and Donovan stared after him, Donovan smirking and Lestrade stifling a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2: 9:15:21

_**A/N: THANK YOU! Thank you for your reviews, I'm so appreciative of all of the positive feedback! I'm trying really hard not to completely suck at writing, and take any constructive criticism given.**_

_**Oh, and I threw in a few references, what with numbers and all of that.  
Keep an eye out.  
**__**I May Just Be Moffating You.**_

**Part Two-  
Silent Treatment**

Nine days, fifteen hours, and twenty-one minutes since Sherlock last spoke, John decided that it's best just to talk to Sherlock, whether he'll reply or not. "Mary's asked me to dinner. I think I really like her," he said idly, sitting in a stool at the mortuary, watching Sherlock examine the corpse of a man called Ianto Jones. He didn't notice Sherlock's spine go rigid at his comment.  
_"Why can't he just _think, _for once. It's so obvious that he doesn't like her,' _Sherlock thought, standing up. "Asphyxiation," he said quietly, making a mental note of the cause if death. John nodded, though he knew the comment wasn't directed at him, "There's no bruising on or near the neck. So one could assume that he died of an internal problem. Any ideas what that might be?"  
He had a few. Instead of saying anything, Sherlock turned abruptly and left the mortuary, pulling his phone from his pocket. John followed, like Sherlock knew he would.  
"In case it even matters, I'm sorry," John apologised, reaching out to grab Sherlock's wrist. Sherlock attempted to jerk his arm away, leading John to grip his wrist tighter. "If you really want me to talk to you, you'll let me go and offer me a bribe," Sherlock snapped, squirming to get out of John's iron grip. John shook his head in awe. "Sherlock, you are being so selfish. I'm not going to give you things because you're pissed off at me," he locked his eyes on Sherlock's, "It doesn't work like that."  
Sherlock glared, much like a child. "Let go of me," he snarled, attempting once again to pull his arm away. John glared back, his grip unrelenting. "Let me GO," he shouted, his eyes settling on John's. John dropped Sherlock's arm limply, taking a step back. "I'm sorry, I-" he began, but Sherlock was already halfway down the corridor.  
Mycroft watched Sherlock go off running down the street in a rage, and followed him with the street cameras until he saw his brother enter a pub, with lots of neon lights blazing in the front.

_Don't go getting yourself in trouble, dear brother.-MH_


	3. Chapter 3: Parched

**A/N: Thanks again for reviewing- it really means a lot. I'm a very busy bee and I have to write these during school (I finished my work already, get over it). And now Mycroft is involved… He's so clichéd English, I love writing for him. I'm going to stop rambling now.- Lily**

**Also, I am Not Steven Moffat, nor do I own any of the characters or the bar mentioned in the following.**

**Shut Up, John**

**Part 3**

"What the hell do you mean, 'He's in a club'? Sherlock doesn't drink, much less frequent clubs." John was yelling into his mobile at Mycroft, who'd called him. "Do you honestly think I'd bother calling if I hadn't seen him do something… dull? You'd best go find him. He's in the Vibe Bar on Brick Lane. I must go; I've important business to tend to." John opens his mouth to protest and the line goes dead. _'Great. Now I get to go find Sherlock in a club,' _John thought, and stifled a laugh at the thought, _'At least it's not a gay bar.'_  
John half-considered leaving Sherlock to his own devices before hailing a cab and going to find his flatmate.

+0~0+

The bar was dark, with neon lights flashing and music blaring. Sherlock sat on the far end of the bar, which was at the back of the club, sipping an amber liquid that a rather… flamboyant man had bought him. "I'm the world's only consulting detective. Quite an interesting job. My friend J-," Sherlock stopped himself short. _'John would be disappointed if he knew where I was,' _a voice crept up in Sherlock's mind, a voice that the detective could not ignore.  
Instead of finishing his sentence, he topped off his drink in one quick gulp. The man bought Sherlock another and began telling about his career as a 'model', at which Sherlock scoffed and downed another drink. _'Maths teacher. Obvious by the bottoms of his Jeans—touching the floor but not too torn- a sign of a constantly waxed floor; a school. Chalk in the creases of his hands- he uses chalk a lot, and erases it quite a bit, as is shown by the fact that it's on his sleeve and-,' _Sherlock stopped deducing. The man was too close. He was still moving closer, his eyes sweeping over Sherlock's lips, and soon the man is on him- very drunk- and kissing a reluctant detective. A few moments later, the man sits back, and Sherlock stands up to move to the other end of the bar. He asks the bartender for another, and another, and…  
"Sherlock!" John approaches, a worried expression deepening the creases of his forehead. "Are you okay? I was worried. Mycroft called me and… How many drinks have you actually had?" Sherlock smiled, and his face showed John all he needed to know. "Come on. We're going home. I don't care how mad you are at me, you do not get to stay here and get even more smashed," John grabbed Sherlock by the arm and began weaving through the crowd that infringed the dance-floor. Dragging the man outside into the cool night, John hailed a cab.  
A cab pulled over, and John half-lead, half-dragged Sherlock into the back seat. "221B Baker Street, please," he called to the cabbie. Sherlock sprawled out on John, who reluctantly held him, trying in vain not to be discomforted. Sherlock mumbled quietly, laying his head on John's shoulder. "I want… to tell… secret," the drunken detective breathes, "Donnt tell John."  
John chuckles, unsuspecting of what Sherlock would say next, "I… I'm so… sorry for fighting with John. I love John," He giggles, "Don't tell." John blushes, unsure what to take from that. _'He's just drunk. He has to mean… like, brotherly love, I mean, he's Sherlock. He doesn't love,'_ John reassured himself.

_Do take care of him. He's a bit of a lightweight.-MH_


	4. Chapter 4: Interrogation

**A/N: I'll try to get a few more chapters up this weekend, like I said—I'm quite busy.  
I got a review that gave me the idea for this chapter, Thanks, !  
I'd like to shout out to my readers in Indonesia! I'm amazed that you've read this!  
Keep Calm, Carry On, dears.-Lily**

**Shut Up, John**

**Part 4: Interrogation**

"Sherlock, you have to get off me, we've reached the flat," John urged, attempting to shove his flatmate off of him. "No," growled Sherlock in reply, sinking his head further into the doctor's shoulder. John sighed deeply, and resolved that he'd have to carry Sherlock up to the flat. Reluctantly, he wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and tucked the other under his knees.  
Sherlock giggled and wrapped his arms around John's neck. "Will you carry me over the threshold?" He said, quickly followed by a hiccup. John blushed and slid out of the cab, shutting the door with his hip. "Shut up for a minute, okay? Or I'll drop you," John quipped halfheartedly. He reached for the doorknob, shoving the door open. "Mrs. Hudson! Can you make some tea? Sherlock's a bit, well, drunk," John called, receiving a shocked 'Yes, dear,' as he carried the detective up the stairs, turning to fit through the door. He carefully set the man on the sofa and moved to sit down in his chair. "Sherlock, that secret you told me- do you remember what you told me?" John questioned, his curiosity taking hold.  
Sherlock smiled vaguely and nodded, curling into the couch. "So you love J—well, me, like a brother… or a best friend? Or….?" John questioned, because, after all, Sherlock wouldn't remember John's eagerness in the morning. Time seemed to stretch forever, and John thought Sherlock would never answer, when the Detective's deep baritone rang out. "No."  
John looked to Sherlock's eyes, searching for the words that he desperately wanted to hear. What _did _he want to hear? John pondered the idea, before his breath hitched in realization. "Do you love me like… like a boyfriend?" He asked, receiving a brief pause from his flatmate. "No." John's heart fell to his stomach. _Why am I so disappointed? _He thought. He shook the thoughts from his head and looked at Sherlock, with his icy eyes and cool, pale skin.  
As John looked at Sherlock, he could almost hear the gears turning in the man's head.  
Finally, Sherlock spoke. "You're more than that… boyfriend simply states that we'll split up one day. Realistically, the word is… Soulmate," Sherlock said, and he felt he'd exhausted his brain just trying to get words together. John sat for a moment, blinking, barely breathing, when Mrs. Hudson came in with the tea. "Oh, I see it's a bit tense. I'll just leave your tea and pop off to my sister's." She set the tea on the coffee table and left without complaint.  
"Sherlock?" asked John, shuffling his feet nervously on the floor. "John," Sherlock mumbled in reply, and picked up the small teacup, willing himself not to be drunk anymore. "I'm quite new to this, but I think... I think I love you, too," John half-whispered, his heart racing in his chest. Sherlock smiled and nodded. "I always knew," The Detective boasted. "How could you know if I didn't? I mean, I guess there was always the notion, but..." John trailed off, realising that he probably _had _always had feelings for his flatmate. "Oh."

+0~0+

_Why am I on the sofa?_

"You got completely shit-faced last night and I had to drag you out of a club."

_How can you hear my thoughts? What is this?_

"Sherlock, you're speaking out-loud."

_Oh._

John chuckled and went off to the kitchen, fixing his flat-mate a cup of coffee for his hangover. "Did I do anything... remarkably stupid?" Sherlock faintly remembered John carrying him up to the flat.  
John blushed, and looked down. "No, nothing..." He clears his throat, "Nothing too bad, actually." Sherlock looked up at John curiously. "Don't lie, John. What did I do?"  
John felt his blush become darker. "Nothing. I swear."  
Sherlock stood and walked cautiously over to John. "You're blushing."  
"No, I'm actually not."  
"John."  
"So I am, but only because... Because.." John knew why he was blushing, sure, but he refused to tell- And then there was the proximity between them. Sherlock's hand was about five centimetres from John's hip, and John was pressed back against the countertop, trying in vain not to let Sherlock near him. Sherlock was looking down at John, his face tense and curious, but at the same time the corners of his lips were curled into a small smile, like he thought the situation was funny. "Because you're in my personal space, Sherlock. You'd be blushing if your incredibly male flatmate had you pushed back against the counter, harassing you for lying to him!" John blurted, recieving a smirk from Sherlock. "Out with it," Sherlock said, moving closer to John pointedly.  
John swallowed the ever-growing lump in his throat and opened his mouth, but no words came out. "Y-you told me a secret. About you... and me," John spluttered, his confidence at an all-time low. "Oh? And what might that be?" Sherlock urged.  
"It's just nothing, okay. You told me that you love me. Not like a sibling, or a friend..." John paused, urging himself to continue as he watched Sherlock's smug expression change to an embarrassed blush. "You said... like a soulmate."  
Sherlock drew his hands back from the counter next to John. "Oh," He mumbled, turning and briskly leaving the kitchen. He calmly walked into his room, showing no emotion until he was sealed inside. He slid down the door, sitting with his head pressed to his knees and his arms draped down at his ankles. He was just about in his mind palace when John called through the door. "Sherlock? Are you alright?" _No_. "Fine. Just a bit shocked, is all."  
"Can I come in?"  
"Please." Sherlock slid away from the door so that John could enter.  
John entered the room cautiously, looking down at Sherlock. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you," John comforted, shutting the door and sitting where Sherlock had been moments before. He slowly, calmly put a hand on the detective's shoulder.

"Is it true?"


	5. Chapter 5: Enlightenment

**A/N: I am so sorry that I haven't updated. I've been busy with the new semester! Thank you for your reviews, and I think this one will be coming to a close, soon. I started a new fic, Flowers for Deduction (A Flowers for Algernon/Sherlock crossover), which will be the new focus for me. I am super excited for you to read it!  
The Game Is Afoot!  
-Lily**

Shut Up, John  
Part 5  
Enlightenment

Sherlock was anything but prepared to answer John's question. Instead of answering, he put his cold hand on John's, sighing exasperatedly. It was true, but Sherlock wasn't ready to admit that. He had hidden it so well—for so damn _long_ that he had convinced some people (John, at least) that he was not, and would never be in love. Honestly, he didn't really feel that in any way John would reciprocate. John had a way of denying that he had ever felt anything for Sherlock. So, of course Sherlock had doubts. He doubted John's feelings for him like the proverbial blind man doubts the world in front of him.

Despite his doubts, Sherlock began weaving his reply; slowly at first, then his pace quickened as he became sure of himself. "John, you have been my companion for a long time. So if you ask me if I truly love you, the only possible answer could be yes. I do. I know that you do not love me, and I have accepted this fact. You do not have to reciprocate, and you can leave, if you want, but I care about you. That is what you should know. I cannot stop having feelings for you—I know this because I have tried so hard to forget this feeling. I also know that I cannot make you love me. This is a painful, yet inevitable thing. I am sorry that I have put this on you."

When Sherlock finished, he felt John's eyes on him. He knew then why they call it eye _contact_.  
"Please say something," Sherlock whispered after a while.  
John closed his fingers around Sherlock's hand, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again and pursing his lips.

John thought about everything Sherlock had done for him—putting his limp to rest, quieting his nightmares, and putting him back into the battlefield that is life. Without him, he certainly wouldn't be the person that he was. He did love Sherlock, because of everything that he had ever done for him. He loved Sherlock because he played his violin when he was frustrated; he loved Sherlock because he would sulk for days. He loved Sherlock despite the body parts in the fridge.

So instead of replying, John took Sherlock's face in his hands and kissed him. He kissed the Detective for a long time before pulling back to breathe. Before Sherlock could say anything, John mumbled four words.

"I love you, idiot."

**I'm sorry this was short. Like I said above, I have other fics that I am REALLY EXCITED ABOUT. PM me if you want more background on what's up-and-coming!-Lily**


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